


Splish Splash

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Merpeople
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6167299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a single mermaid isn't easy for Donna, but rescuing the Doctor has unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splish Splash

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt request:** Ten/Donna Disney AU (made [on tumblr](http://basmathgirl.tumblr.com/post/140473261819/hello-im-wondering-if-you-can-do-a-au-with-donna))  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own a VHS copy of The Little Mermaid and absolutely nothing else here.

A long tiring day lay ahead of her. It hadn’t been long before Donna left her home on the reef when she spied the form of her grandfather swimming towards her. Wilf, Poseidon of the Seventh Sea did not look happy to see his granddaughter getting ready to leave. His presence usually made her feel better, but this did not look like it was going to be one of those times. Instead, his expression was thunderous as he bore down upon her. Uh oh! She was going to get a talk. Again. This was becoming a habit now, and she dreaded what was about to come.

“Donna, what are you doing?” he demanded to know.

“Preparing to collect some oysters for you, Gramps,” she stated as calmly as she could. “I hope I will collect enough.”

“I’m sure you will,” he agreed, softening his tone. This was his favourite granddaughter, after all, and it was hard for him to stay mad with her for long. “But that isn’t my worry.”

“Oh?” she queried, placing the last oyster onto a platter for him. “What are you worried about?”

“You, Sweetheart,” he admitted. “I don’t like you being on your own.”

“But I’m not on my own,” she argued. “I’ve got you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he retorted, suspecting that she was deliberately misunderstanding his words. “Why can’t you be more like your sister Amy, get yourself a nice merboy like Rory. Or Clara with Danny,” he added. “You should have someone.”

“I don’t want or need a merboy,” she defended herself, “let alone a merman, as my partner in life,” 

“Why not?” Wilf queried. “When I think of my Melanie, your poor old mum, bringing you back to us when she had finally returned home to the people of the Ariel coral reef… before she died. I was determined that you would want for nothing, always having the best.” He smiled as he surrounded himself in memories. “Then Sylvia the sea witch took you under her tentacle, taught you right from wrong, got you ready to marry a merman and take your rightful place as my successor as leader of our merpeople.”

“I’m very grateful, but I don’t want to replace you, Gramps,” she assured him. “And although I would love to get married one day, I don’t know any merman who could fit the bill. You’re my number one.”

“As it should be,” he agreed, pleased with her answer for a moment. “But you need to go find yourself a merman for a husband. You can’t just float about, expecting him to be swept in by the current,” he chided. “Sometimes I think you are just drifting, Sweetheart.”

“I promise I’ll look. Eventually,” she vowed, and kissed his cheek.

-o0o-

It wasn’t often that Donna entered the shallower waters near the river outlet. Not that the fresh water bothered her too much, although it did make her tail zing. No, the reason why she had ventured there, and closer to the humans, was that she had been assigned the task of collecting something different for dinner that evening when they celebrated the 80th anniversary of the emergence of Wilf, Poseidon of the Seventh Sea; otherwise known as her grandfather. So she wanted to give him something special that had only just come into season: fresh oysters. The best ones came from the area known as Tardis Bay, so he was worth the added effort of going that distance and into potential danger.

The danger came from the fishing nets that the humans used to scoop up the wildlife of the sea. They didn’t care about species, colour or creed; they just took everything and tossed back whatever they didn’t want to eat. But only after it was dead. Nobody was safe who ventured near. The death of her own mother had often been held up by her grandfather as a cautionary tale of such foolhardy explorations. 

It was as she passed a particular rock known as Widow’s Peak that marked the boundary from the deeper waters she normally kept to, she spotted what she thought was a seal in trouble. Rushing to aid the poor creature, she was shocked to find a human lying on a large leaf-shaped vessel. Hearing a splash, she rose up to peer at him in concern, and heard the human murmur, “Help me.”

Donna immediately slid back into the water in shock. The human had made a sound and she had understood him! How had that happened? And would he be able to understand her in return? There was only one way to find out, so she took a deep breath, placed her hands on the edge of his flimsy transport and hauled herself up out of the water. “What do you want me to do?”

His eyes fluttered open for some seconds, and his right hand was raised in a feeble effort to point. “Get me to the shore, please,” he quietly begged.

She gazed towards the distant shoreline, calculating the distance and how long it would take her to swim it normally and with him in tow. It wouldn’t take too long out of her day, she decided. So she slung her bag of oysters onto a jutting out piece of Widow’s Peak, making sure it would not fall back into the water and disappear without a trace, and then turned her attention back to the alien.

It was a bit hard to judge such a soggy mess, but her first impression of him wasn’t too bad. She would be able to examine him properly once she had him out of the waves, on the edge of the surf. All the way there he didn’t do much beyond the odd grunt or groan. Shame. She had loads of questions to ask him.

The sun shone down in beautiful waves as she finally reached the shallow depths of the beach, and it took some effort to shove the mini boat thing the human was lying on, up onto the firmer sand of the beach. In the end she had wriggled onto the sand and dragged him bodily out of the water as far as she could go. It was enough, fortunately; and she could finally look at him in comfort.

She stayed half submerged within the waves, just in case the human suddenly turned vicious. Who knew how violent he could become? The risk wasn’t worth taking according to the stories told by her grandfather. 

As she caught her breath she also rested against a boulder, one of many small rocks dotted along the shoreline, where shingle hadn't yet become fine sand. The human lay on his back, his feet lapped by the waves, but his head now had a chance to dry.

Reaching out a hand, she swept his hair out of his eyes and considered his features. Ooh, he was pretty, she decided, for a human. The colour of his eyes earlier, when he had momentarily opened them, had been very different from hers. Her eyes were blue with an inner ring of amber, whereas his were brown. A sort of golden brown, she noted as the sun beat down on him and his eyelids lifted to see who his rescuer was.

He blinked several times before squinting. It was too bright at first to make out who his rescuer was, but then they leaned forward, casting a shadow over his face, and he was able to see more clearly. His saviour was a woman. A woman similar in age to him; with pale skin, beautiful ginger hair and lovely kind features. And she was smiling at him in encouragement. That was nice.

“You saved my life,” he rasped. “Thank you.”

“I did,” she agreed, beaming with joy that she had succeeded. “You can talk! Don’t you think that is wonderful?”

Puzzled, he frowned at her. “Of course I can talk. Why did you...? Anyway, where was I?”

She grinned. “I found you on that log.”

Log? What log? He managed to turn his head and spotted his surfboard lying within the breaking waves. Stifling a laugh, he informed her, “It’s a surfboard. I was out surfing when I must have had an accident.”

“Surfboard,” she carefully enunciated as though she had never said the word before, let alone seen one. “Your one person vessel. Yes?”

“Well, you could say that, I suppose,” he allowed, now amused for different reasons that included relief at being actually alive when he’d thought his number was up. “What do you call it?”

Her expression went thoughtful. “‘Tiny boat’, when we do,” she admitted, but didn’t reveal how stupid they thought they were.

“I need to thank you for saving me out there,” he informed her, wincing as he tried to lift his head. “I am Prince John Eric, of Tardis, but my friends call me the Doctor.” He then added, “That includes you now, if you want. Well, it will once I know who you are.”

“I am Donna of Ariel,” she supplied; still amazed she was able to talk with this strange being. All in all she was fascinated by him. 

There was an angry red mark on his temple, so she prodded it experimentally with her fingertip to see what it was. His skin felt strangely firm under her touch.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” he cried out.

“It’s red,” she said in explanation, hastily drawing her hand away. “I...”

“Blood has a tendency to do that,” he sarkily snapped back when he saw the evidence on her finger. “Evidently I hit my head on the rock out there. It explains why I passed out and this headache. I need to get home.”

“To where the fishermen live,” she pondered, “in the little homes.” She curled her hand up into a shell shape in demonstration. 

“No, I live up in Tardis Castle,” he almost sneered, ignoring the action, “not among the ordinary people. Do you know nothing about Gallifreyans?”

She shook her head. “What’s a Galli…yaffy?” she tried to ask in amusement.

He laughed at her attempt. “Gallifreyan,” he slowly repeated for her benefit, completely captivated by her tinkling laughter. “They’re my people. Full of pomp, rules and regulations.”

None the wiser, she nodded as though she understood. “Do you get pomp from the land or the sea?”

Realising her ignorance, he quickly informed her, “Pomp isn’t a food. It’s a way of behaving. Like a king.”

“Oh!” Now this she knew perfectly. If he was bossed about as much as she was, she could sympathise completely. Which reminded her of something else. “I have so many questions I want to ask you about your people.”

“You can ask about me too, if you like,” he offered congenially. “How come you were in the sea and were able to rescue me?”

“Gramps.” When his forehead puckered in confusion she continued, “I was collecting oysters as a treat for my grandfather. We are celebrating his...” She waved her hand about to try and find the appropriate word to describe his emergence.

“Birthday?” the prince suggested.

“Yes, that’s it,” she joyfully accepted. “They are his favourite, the ones from this bay, so I travelled all the way here to get them.”

“Where did you travel from?”

“The Ariel coral reef,” she stated, wondering why he hadn’t remembered that part of her name. She had to admit that she knew very little about these Gallifreyan humans. The wind suddenly picked up, signifying a coming storm. It was best that she flee from the surface and return to the safe depths. “I’d better start swimming back home. They will be expecting me.”

“Be careful out there, Donna,” he warned, “There are mermaids out there.”

“Are there?” She wriggled backwards into the surf as surreptitiously as she could. “Should I be worried by such creatures?”

He nodded his head. “You hear such tales of fishermen being brought to their deaths by mermaids and their vile destructive actions.”

Oh dear, he didn’t like mermaids. Keen now to get away, she tried to desperately hide her tail within the incoming tide. “I’m sure that is just a story. It is not the mermaids who cause any harm.”

“I have it on the best authority,” he insisted. “My father lost a good friend to the mermaids.”

Grief grasped her heart as she gazed upon him one last time. The fluttering of wanting more would have to be ignored. “I am so sorry to hear that,” she sincerely told him; and then pushed backwards more firmly into the water.

“Wait!” he called out, sitting uneasily up to grasp her hand before she could disappear. “Let me take you out to dinner... to erm... to say thank you,” he stammered out when she hesitated at his request. “As friends, or anything else you like. It doesn’t have to be more, if you are willing.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded.

His gaze softened. “Will I ever see you again?” he queried. “No one will believe me when I tell them I was rescued by a ginger angel.”

She modestly burst into laughter at such a thought. “I will try to come back to see you one day, Doctor. Be careful on your surfboard.”

“Oh that!” He turned to place his hand on the board, turned back to make some trite remark about it bringing her to him, and found she had vanished. 

Where has she gone? It was as if he had truly been visited by an angel or a ghost, but he didn’t believe that was the case. With some effort he hauled himself onto his feet and looked out to sea. There was no sign of her in the water at all. Not even a splash. 

“Donna? Donna!” he cried out in horror. To his relief her head bobbed out of the waves some distance away. “There you are!”

“Blimey you can shout,” she teased.

“I thought you had been an apparition, or worse, you had drowned,” he confessed with relief. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Pft! I’m a very experienced diver. It’d take a lot to drown me,” she boasted. “Bye!”

With a final wave of their hands, she was gone, and the prince was left on his own on the beach wondering how he would ever find her again.

-o0o-


End file.
